Eulogy
by ThisBookBelongsTo
Summary: Kirk is in the hospital wing at the bedside of a dying Spock. Corny "alien virus" line, K/S first time, mild slash, possibly.


"Oh God, no, Spock, no, no," mumbled a hunched figure sitting beside the prone form of his Vulcan friend. Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise, renowned hero of seven galaxies and victor of fifty-fold battles, wept. He barely heard the door slide closed as Doctor McCoy tactfully left him alone to say his goodbyes.

"Spock," gasped Kirk, "don't you dare leave me, do you hear? You stay alive until Bones can fix you, that is an order!" he almost roared. He felt anger replaced with anguish in the constant cycle of despair and collapsed to his knees by Spock's side. "I know you didn't- that you don't- hold much stock in emotions, old friend, but there are things that have to be said. It can't end like this," he said, standing and stroking a rough finger down the unlined Vulcan face. "You're too dignified to succumb to something so commonplace as illness, too sophisticated. Whatever happened to that Vulcan immunity you were- are- so proud of?" Kirk paused to clear his eyes of tears with his yellow sleeve.

"If you can hear me, my friend," he murmured, glancing furtively around the wing to ensure they were alone, "then know this: you have been a brother to me, a father to me," he took a deep breath, "and... more." It seemed as if he had something left to say, but at that moment, McCoy returned with a syringe of ominous-looking purple liquid and an air of grim finality. "His vital signs are falling rapidly," he informed Kirk without preamble. "This solution will either cure him or," he looked forlornly at Kirk, "or he won't need to be cured." Kirk nodded sombrely.

"Of course," continued the doctor, "the final decision is down to you, captain. Spock named you to be consulted in case of just such a situation as this, and the choice is therefore ultimately on your shoulders." Kirk blinked in astonishment. He had never known that Spock had named him... had trusted him so implicitly. It made him feel even worse when he considered that it was his fault that his friend was in such a position now. "Save him, Bones," Kirk whispered, desperately swallowing back tears. McCoy nodded and without further ado injected the motionless Vulcan with the entire contents of the large syringe.

"I have to attend to my other patients, Jim," said McCoy, and Kirk was touched to hear him use his first name. It was something only his closest friends did, and only then in the direst of situations. Kirk knew McCoy had meant it as a comfort, so he forced himself to smile. "I understand," he said, "I'll stay here with Spock. I'll... inform you of any changes, shall I?" he asked, unable to keep the hope entirely from his voice. McCoy nodded and strode away, finding himself speechless, knowing how little chance there was of any change but for the worse.

Kirk squeezed Spock's cold hand tightly, standing protectively over his friend. "I am sorry, my friend," he whispered. "I should be the one in your place now; it ought to be me dying of an alien virus." Spock's frequent maxim came to mind, and he smiled. "Of course, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, my logical friend," he murmured, "but what if the needs of the many are also the needs of the one? I need you, Spock," he sobbed, "we all do."

Suddenly, Kirk felt a reciprocating squeeze on his hand, so faint he almost didn't feel it. But he was certain that Spock had responded. "I know you can hear me," he said, "so just... hang on." Kirk called for the doctor, who appeared by the bedside almost immediately, looking flustered. "What is it?" he asked, and Kirk was surprised to see fear in the face of his usually calm and composed friend. McCoy took in Kirk's red eyes and the tear tracks down his cheeks without comment, focusing on his patient. "His heart rate is up, but other than that..." he gestured broadly. "No change. What happened, Kirk?" he asked, seeing the expression on the other man's face. It was a look he had seen before, and it worried him to see that outward sign of obstinacy here. "He moved," stated Kirk firmly. He decided not to tell McCoy that he had squeezed his hand- it was something he felt he had to keep for himself, a parting gift from his friend. "Jim," the doctor began heavily, but Kirk interrupted.

"He moved his hand, Bones," the captain insisted, jaw set stubbornly, daring his friend to call him a liar. McCoy just nodded and increased activity monitoring. "If he so much as thinks about moving now, then we'll know," assured the doctor, leaving them alone once more.

"Spock, we both know this isn't it," Kirk told his friend. "And you know I don't believe in no-win scenarios. There is a way to reach you, and I will find it." He spoke in short bursts, struggling to manage his panic as the seconds turned into minutes with no change. "You squeezed my hand," Kirk murmured. "I told you that you are more than a brother, more than a father to me. It's true. I was always impressed by the way you kept your cool, the way you never lost your head, not once. You saved my life more times than I can count, and now that it comes to my turn to save you, I've failed you. I've failed you," he choked out, welling up.

"Try... not to speak in the past... tense, captain... about the... present," groaned a voice that sounded unmistakeably familiar, but warped with the suppression of absolute agony. Kirk looked at Spock's face and saw his eyes flutter open, his lips parted as he wheezed painfully. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and Spock nodded. Kirk felt his shoulders sag with relief. Everything would be alright.

Footsteps thundered around the corner, knocking over a trolley of instruments and sending a nurse tumbling. McCoy skidded up to Spock's bed with an enormous grin on his face. "I just saw the readings," he panted, "I came as soon as I knew..." He looked down at Spock and coughed, saying gruffly, "I knew you'd make it, you old hobgoblin," he looked at the floor, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Spock reached out with trembling fingers and took his hand. Kirk felt a strange wave of jealousy at their contact- Spock was his friend, he had stayed by him... Kirk knew he was being irrational, and struggled to hold back his own hand that yearned to take Spock's from McCoy and hold it forever. "You knew no... such thing... Doctor McCoy," wheezed Spock, "my friend." McCoy smiled, grateful to Spock for putting into words that which he could not express. "Yes, well..." he mumbled, "I have to, you know," he said apologetically, backing away to return to his duties with a smile on his face.

Spock looked up at Kirk. "Captain," Spock asked curiously, "I could not help but hear the impressive eulogy you were weaving for me back there..." The Vulcan looked, to Kirk, a little uncomfortable, but it could just have been the virus. "Did you speak the truth?" Spock looked anxiously at Kirk, awaiting his reply.

Kirk grinned. "Every word," he promised.

"You said that I was a brother to you, a father to you," remembered Spock. Kirk held up a hand to stop him. "No," he corrected, "I said you were more than that." Kirk felt his blood rushing with excitement at the risk he was running of Spock discovering what he had meant, but the euphoria of seeing his friend restored was much stronger than his crumbling reservations.

"What did you mean?" Spock's voice sounded curiously strained.

"I meant... I meant that you are everything to me, my friend," mumbled Kirk, suddenly embarrassed. He supposed that this display of emotion would be considered simply weakness to his friend, and immediately began to wish that he had not spoken at all. What Spock said next, however, dispelled his worries on this front. "It was as if I had fallen into the blackest abyss and was slowly burning up as I neared the bottom," Spock said quietly. "I wished to reach the end so that I would hit the ground and end my pain, but the tunnel seemed to go on indefinitely. I heard your voice in the darkness and it reminded me why I could not hit the bottom. It showed me the way, in the absolute darkness, back to the light, and for that I thank you, captain," Spock murmured, eyes avoiding Kirk's.

Kirk felt his heart swell at the words, and he knew that his life would not have been worth a thing without his rational, dependable Vulcan by his side. "I am half-human, captain," Spock reminded him. "I can feel emotions upon occasion, although my Vulcan heritage constantly seeks to prevent such a thing. Now, however, my defences are lower and I am able to express what I feel, if I may?" Kirk nodded. At that moment, he would have granted Spock anything he had asked.

"Very well. I feel grateful to be alive. For this I must thank Doctor McCoy when he returns. I must also thank you, captain, for standing by me. You are truly a good friend." He drew breath unsteadily and took Kirk's hand in his, gripping it as if holding onto life itself.

Kirk squeezed back, confused but delighted at Spock's response. Spock seemed to melt into his bed, a small smile playing upon his dark lips. Kirk watched, entranced, as he chanted a soft mantra to himself, over and over the same rhythm. Kirk understood none of the words, but watched the Vulcan's lips moving, forming precise shapes and admired their elegance. "What are you singing?" Kirk murmured. Spock opened his eyes and his lips formed an 'O' of surprise at how close Kirk was to him, but did not comment. Instead he admitted, "It is a chant taught to Vulcan children, captain, to control their emotions. One impulse in particular. It is called the Kolinhar." Kirk's shocked expression told Spock that he had heard of it, and its' purpose.

Kirk was astonished- he had never thought of Spock in such terms, although he supposed that he had known that Spock was male and therefore subject to certain... impulses, as Spock termed it. But now! Kirk could barely comprehend what it meant. Instead of trying to understand, Kirk did what he did best. Well, perhaps second best to captaining the Enterprise. He leaned in the short distance between himself and Spock and placed his pink lips on Spock's mouth with the utmost tenderness.

Only when he heard a moan of anxiety from Spock was Kirk returned to reality, the blissful world of that secret kiss shattered by his concern. "What's wrong?" he asked, at once worried that his friend was succumbing once more to this virus. "Are you hurting?" he asked Spock urgently, panic in his tone.

"I am... fine, captain," gasped Spock. His cheeks were flushed pink and his eyes wide. "You need not worry so; we Vulcans are made to survive."

"You're half-human," mumbled Kirk, and Spock was alarmed to see crystalline tears forming on his long, pale eyelashes. "I just... I can't lose you again," Kirk choked. Spock felt his heart stutter at the words. He reached out and lifted the delicate tears from his friend's face, acting on emotion for the first time in a great many years. He felt exhilarated.

Kirk let out a strangled half-laugh, throwing his arms around Spock's neck. "I love you," he sighed impulsively. Spock wrapped his arms hesitantly around Kirk's body, and said, "My heart rate is elevated, my head spinning and a feeling of euphoria envelopes me. I suspect that, were a mirror present, my pupils would be dilated. My Vulcan side will always view you as my captain, but to my human side you are my friend, and," he paused, "I would not be without you by my side for a legion of soldiers. There is only one logical explanation for my physical and emotional response to the present situation," he concluded. Kirk looked at his expectantly, so he smiled and said, "I am infatuated with you, James."

Kirk laughed joyously and Spock leaned in and gently placed his lips to Kirk's. "I love you," Kirk murmured through the kiss.

"And I you," replied Spock.


End file.
